Both Ends Burning
by vonham
Summary: When war is heavy in the air, friends and lovers change; they grow, and break. You cling to the closest person; sharing borrowed breaths, stealing counted kisses. Centers on the relationship between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, starting their 7th year, and through the war (and beyond?). RL/SB Slash. Also JP/LE. Planning on being novel length.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not own JK Rowling's wonderful world and characters. **

**This is planned to be a novel length (hopefully) fic that follows the relationship of Sirius and Remus, starting their 7th year. I am looking for a beta. Perchance you might remember the beginning from 2008 under the Author Zabakdas. Yeah, that's me. I found this piece recently, and decided to actually write it out. **

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><p>Sirius Black was sitting, quite uncomfortably, on the extreme edge of the Potter's guest bed. A random passerby might observe the tall, dark haired teenager shaking a piece of cotton from his hair, but no; Sirius had his hands firmly on his temples, and shook, left, right, as though to shake the dangerous, thrilling thoughts from the jumble of feelings that was his mind (and which he often called lunacy). It was not one thought, but perhaps it was. A culmination of thoughts, centered, pulled as if by gravity around one entity, snowballing, and growing, until Sirius thought he could see nothing else but that. In the morning, as he poured milk over his cereal, he thought of Moony. He thought, with a slight frown, if his friend was healed from last night's full moon, or was Remus still suffering? These thoughts are perfectly natural, reasoned Sirius; there was nothing strange about caring for a friend.<p>

_Dear Remus,_

_ I wish you would let me, Prongs and Wormy stay with you during holiday transformations. I hope it wasn't too tough on you; then again, skin like leather, yeah Moony? I almost apparated to your place, tonight, worried about you. . If only your parents didn't hate me ever since I almost, *accidentally* set your front lawn on fire. If only they believed me that blue flames are harmless! Padfoot's been itching to get out, too. Not in front of Prongs' parents though. I'd go out for a run at night, if only they didn't check up on me every hour. I think they figure I'll go barmy on them, ever since showing up on their doorstep. Too nice, sometimes. Not that I miss being yelled at. And well, you know, Mrs. Potter sure knows how to make a stew. So I'm not complaining much. You should come by; the Potter estate is rather large (thankfully, though, smaller than the Most Foul House of Black). Prongs' mother has her knickers in a twist 'bout you. Something about how thin you looked back at King's Cross. It would be cruel to deny her the pleasure. Truth is, I'm rather bored here. Music doesn't work, I can't get the record player to work. It's hell. Help, Moony, I know you'll be able to make it work. Just scored a new record by Roxy Music from the record store in the nearby muggle town. It's called Siren, and I think this time I will make you like it. Come by some day. Surprise me. _

_ Messrs Padfoot. _

_P.S. If you're not here for Christmas, I'll be forced to endure the scorn of your parents, and come pick you up myself. _

Nights at the Potter estate engulfed his soul in a sort of inescapable blackness that had him grasping the air, almost as if to lift the blanket of dark that he perceived all around him. It was during those hours of Black in which his mind played tricks on him. He thought of Moony, like always. This time Moony was his, and healed, with a bare chest, whispering into the crook of Sirius' neck, fingers curled, grasping his hip, pulling him with surprising force toward him, toward his hard cock, and between them lay pleasure and indulgence, and when he came, he whispered, _Moony, Moony, Moony. _It was not the type of thing that Sirius would allow himself to remember ever thinking. Sirius blamed It on the lack of music. Like an addict, Sirius could not have peace of mind without his music. Playful guitar, and nonsense lyrics, he would close his eyes and see the musicians playing, eyes painted with glitter, leather hips swinging, pulsing, sex. He tried to play the music in his head now, in the dark. _Burn you out of my mind, I know/ You're a flame that never fades/ Jungle red's a deadly shade/ Both ends burning, will the fires keep/ somewhere deep in my soul tonight/ both ends burning, burning, burn. _"Burning, burning" he murmured, and slipped a hand down his boxers. Burn, Moony, burn.

Sirius awoke the next morning, pushing to the deep recesses of his minds, the thoughts that had before taken over. He sat there, the silence threatening to drown him; he tried again with the record player he had brought to James' house. He remembered the Christmas before, when Remus gave him the copper colored, slightly old turntable. It would not work in Hogwarts, not with muggle electricity running through it. So Remus had enchanted it to feed off of magic, producing sound waves, amplifying them. But the charm was starting to wear off, and he found that he could not get it to work in the magically dense atmosphere of James' house. Sirius was about to go leave the room for some breakfast, and to search the Potter's library for the spell, when he heard the all too familiar tapping at the window. Giving his turntable a final pat, Sirius turned around, and his heart almost, as of its own will, jumped from his throat. A rather skinny owl, feathers out of order, a nail missing from one of its talons. Remus.

_Dear Sirius aka the smelly thing that is Padfoot;_

_ It wasn't too tough last night, really. My parents built me a new shed, you know how my father is, obsessed with making things "more comfortable" for me. So anyway, this shed's like a small house. I guess the wolf was thankful for the room, although there obviously is no substitute for the shrieking shack. I missed Padfoot. Incidentally, it bears reminding that of course my mother, being a muggle, would be frightened of blue flames. Bloody horrible joke that was; she nearly passed out cold. Then again, you know, she's one for dramatics. I suppose I can endure one more album of Roxy Music. I must admit, I am fond of the name. The music...well, I've known bands to change dramatically from album to album. I can't wait to go back to Hogwarts, that sounds weird, I know. It's not just the books. I'm bored. I miss my friends. _

_ -Remus. _

Sirius ran the pad of his thumb over the last few words of the letter. _I miss you. _He blinked, and looked again. _I miss my friends. _Naturally. That made more sense. Why would Moony even write that he missed only him? None of that, now. This endless litany has been invading his mind for months now. It took a true crisis, colloquially known as the Big Sirius Black Mistake, for these thoughts to start to penetrate his consciousness. At first they were only at night, fuzzy dreams that left it quite easy for Sirius to pretend that it was not a man's body he saw atop his own, or later, it was surely not Remus' mouth on his. Sirius decided that it was just a phase, and that perhaps if he paid Remus mind during the waking hours, observe him in his totally normal routine, it would banish these thoughts from his head. The dreams went away, oh yes. But now the images invaded his waking brain; watching Remus suck on sugar quills, or bending over a book. Every little gesture was taken out of context, exaggerated, evoking brain melting reactions from Sirius.

It wasn't just that Sirius' body seemed to want to bugger Remus' body quite badly; Sirius couldn't help but think about Remus all the time. This was understandable, he reasoned, for him to be overly concerned with Remus' wellbeing, as he had betrayed him most horribly. It was now up to Sirius to make up for it by supporting his friend anyway he could. And by supporting he meant in the "be a good friend way" and not, "support your body while I bugger you over the library tables that you so desperately love" sort of way. Of course.

Sirius wasn't wholly in denial. He wasn't stupid; by the time the condition evolved to daydreaming, he knew. Knew that he was attracted to Remus Lupin aka Skinny Werewolf Boy aka Chocolate Addict aka Moony. His Moony. This did not mean that he had to act on this attraction; hadn't he hurt Moony enough? Hadn't he done enough damage? Moony deserved to bugger a beautiful blond, and didn't need to know of Sirius' pining. No, he would just have to continue the suppression of his feelings.

"Oy, Sirius you big dog, Quidditch time!" Sirius grabbed his broom and jolted outside to join James in "Quidditch" which meant tossing around a Quaffle, really.

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><p><strong>Author's note: Just to repeat: I am looking for a beta. Please feel free to leave reviews :) The song is "Both Ends Burning" by Roxy Music<strong>


	2. Head Boy

**Hey guys! I know it's been forever...I am adjusting to the new semester and all that, and waiting for betaing and such. This chapter is unbetaed but I just couldn't resist posting anyway! As usual, I own nothing that JK Rowling wrote. **

_Dear Remus, _

_Of course we would be delighted to have you as our guest for the remaining weeks of the summer! Please, feel free to show up whenever; our door is always open for you. I think the boys will be happy to see you; they're getting a bit bored, I think, judging by the amount of things that are broken throughout the house. On second thought, do hurry dear. _

_Say hello to your father from us!_

_The Potters_

If the others knew that Remus was writing to James' parents to actually ask for permission to come over, they would have had a laugh on him. Even before Sirius had permanently relocated to the Potters', he would show up whenever it pleased him; often stealing away from his home in the middle of the night. Remus knows this because Sirius boasted about it, often. Remus marveled that one family could be filled with so much love. It wasn't that his own parents weren't kind, rather they were quite private, no doubt a side effect of having a werewolf for a child, and were never the type to so freely open their home to others.

Remus folded up the letter, with a smile. The easy part was over, and now came the hard part; convincing his parents to let him spend the last two weeks of the summer holidays at the Potters'. It was like this every summer; they would say no, they would fight a bit, and finally send him off. The yearly argument was symbolic, yet no less tiring. It helped that Full Moon was just two days ago; Remus looked healthy enough so that they needn't worry for him, yet the memory of his injuries still so fresh, giving him quite a lot of leeway.

The lanky adolescent found his parents in the kitchen, their breakfast routine well underway. Hope Lupin was leaning on the kitchen counter, a gratuitously large mug of tea to her lips. Lyall Lupin was sitting at the breakfast counter scarfing down toast whilst reading the Daily Prophet. Those days, reading the Daily Prophet could be quite an upsetting activity, and Remus knew that if he caught his parents at the wrong time, they might not let him leave. Lyall was almost at the last page of the newspaper, and his face showed no sign of distress. Safe.

"The Potters send their love," he began, hoping that this comment would soften them.

"The Potters?" his father grunted through bites of toast

"Oooh, send them lots of love back, and a hug as well! You can send hugs with owls, right?" Remus didn't miss the wink in her voice; Hope might be a muggle, but even she knew that hugs could only be figuratively sent through owl post. He smiled back at her, trying to ignore the cynical voice in his head that knew why the Potters sent their "hello" just to his father, and not his mother. They were no Blacks, that's for sure, but Purebloods, no matter how liberal, were always less comfortable around muggles like his mother.

"Right. Will do, as I'm seeing them on Wednesday"

"Are you now? Says who?" Lyall countered.

Remus had had just about enough of this.

"Listen, I'm of age. Every year we have this argument; you say it's too dangerous, you miss me, etcetera etcetera. We argue for a bit and then you let me go. Let's go over the main points of WHY you end up acquiescing to my request: 1. you know the Potters, and it even creates an excuse to go see your dear friends for dinner. 2. Their house is heavily warded, in Godric's Hollow. I, for one, cannot think of a safer wizarding village at the moment.3. You love me. 4. I need my friends and they need me. Shall I go on?"

Ten minutes later Remus was upstairs in his room again, a smile dancing across his face as he thought of being reunited with his friends in two day's time.

Contrary to popular belief, Remus did have a life outside of the Marauders. Rather, he had one friend, if you could call it that. David was a muggle who lived a couple of streets down, and who had a witch for a sister, who had graduated Hogwarts some years previous. He tended bar at the local pub and rode a motorcycle. He often donned leather jackets, and some of the best music Remus had been introduced to was through David. A very handsome David.

Remus wasn't the type to deny his own feelings. Keep them under lock and key from others, of course; but Remus never hid anything from himself, he was so introspective a person, so self analytical, that he was always painfully aware of his existence, his every being. His scars, his lycanthropy, his homosexuality. It took until 5th year for him to fully realize it, not because he was in denial, rather he had never really thought about sex, or relationships. The moment he did, he knew that he favoured blokes. Knew it, and took that information and hid it where no one, not even the Marauders, could access it. He had come to love keeping secrets; back when he was a boy his parents taught him to treasure his secret of lycanthropy; it was for him and no one else. Of course now he knows that they romanticized secret-keeping in order to ensure he keep his condition a secret, but the love for keeping something all to himself had remained.

His arrangement with David started that very year, when he came home for Christmas 5th year. David was there and willing, Remus was there and willing, and neither wanted anything from the other, aside from his body. They both took without giving, and it suited them just fine. What Remus liked most about David, aside from his ass, was that he was not nosy. Not an inquiring soul, not curious at all. Remus could probably show up one day with his hair dyed blonde, and the other boy wouldn't say a word about it. He was blissfully obedient in bed, and always left when it was time to leave.

"Oh, I have a treat for you tonight, Rem-us" Remus hated the way David pronounced his name; rem like I'm your remedy for tonight. One look at his face, and Remus could tell that David was excited about whatever it was that he had for him. Probably a new record, he reckoned. Sure enough, the boy crossed his bedroom, took a record out, taking great care to bend down slowly, and put the record on.

Oh yes, he was teasing; flirting with Remus shamelessly. This was Remus' favourite game; David would be oh so coy, bending down and talking dirty, and he, Remus, would just sit there, face impassive, absorbing all of it, and not reflecting anything back. He made the boy beg for. For once in his life he was in control. His identity was not merely a reflection in the eyes of another, no, he was to be chased...

Two hours later, and Remus crept out of David's derelict flat, and walked down the street home. He hadn't said anything, but Remus knew that it would be his last meeting with David. Remus had already decided not to come home his last year at Hogwarts; between ensuring all Os on his NEWTs, applying for jobs, and partaking in all the extra-curricular activities that he could, Remus wouldn't have time for holidays. He had to find a job, and the sooner he started looking, the better. He harbored no feelings for the boy, yet the final parting weighed on him, feeling like a finality of something else entirely.

"Honestly Sirius, I don't know why I even practice with you; you're a shitty fly"

James and Sirius were out on the three acre large "backyard" of the Potter estate. James was trying to get in as much practice as possible; this was, after all, his last chance to etch his name into Hogwart's Quidditch Hall of Fame, to become a true legend. Only Sirius, who never had the focus to care much about the sport, wasn't nearly a talented enough player to give James a real challenge.

The sun was beating down relentlessly on James, and he could feel his glasses slipping off his nose. _If Lily were here, she wouldn't have let me forget the sticking charm_. James sighed more audibly than any man his age should, as he briefly fantasized about Lily: _Her hands on her hips, admonishing James, "You forgot the sticking charm, you dolt"._ James wouldn't admit to anyone that it was particularly Lily's bossiness, know-it-all-ness, must-have-the-last-word-because-you-know-I'm-right-ness that kept his attention all these years, that made him fall in love with her. _She inches closer, wand raised, "adgluento" and no sweat of any kind would ruin his glasses again. He inches closer to her, eyes closing, lips forming a kiss..._

James felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, and slipped a little from his broom.

"Who's the bad fly now, sod?" Sirius was shouting, but James wasn't listening; already diving down at neck breaking speed. He caught the quaffle with his uninjured left hand, and hurled it at the makeshift hoop. It went through.

"You were saying?"

James Potter could never resist the opportunity to show off, even to his best friend. Even when his shoulder was probably dislocated. He touched down and motioned Sirius to do the same.

"Let's get inside for some lunch, yeah? Bloody boiling out here" James tried to hide the pain. Nothing his mother couldn't fix up in a jiffy.

"Oh good, you boys decided to come back down to earth...James are you injured? Again?" Mrs. Potter gave them both a look that would make even Albus Dumbledore hang his head in shame.

"Honestly" she began, waving her wand around James' shoulder, and making entirely too much fuss, "wounds can be healed by magic, but you know, repeated injuries like this leave their toll on the body! Just think about when you're older; you'll be all stiff and arthritis!"

The two boys exchanged looks; they knew better than to interrupt or correct Mrs. Potter. They both mumbled, "Yes'm", and that was enough for her.

"I suppose you two are wanting a spot of lunch, yes? I'll have Grob make us something small; we're dining out tonight" Not for lack of money, the Potters didn't dine out often; Mrs. Potter enjoyed cooking, her house elf Grob as her sous chef, and anyway there wasn't much choice of dining around Godric's Hollow.

In fact, James could remember the last time they had dined out as a family; the day he got his Hogwarts letter.

"Err...what's the special occasion, mom?" Clearly Mrs. Potter was waiting for James to ask this question, as her face broke out in a smile as she handed James a thick envelope.

"Hogwarts letters arrived, and...well go on, open it and see for yourself!" As usual, she had helped herself to the letter before giving it to James, as she did every year to ensure that her son was not hiding marks from her.

James noted that the letter was heavier than usual; probably something to do with the upcoming NEWTs. He opened it, scanning his grades. Os in everything but Potions (EE) and Herbology (A). This was nothing new, as he usually maintained excellent grades, using a mixture of charm and copious amounts of raw talent. He set the paper aside, and started reading the second sheet of parchment. He pretended to fail to notice the badge sitting in the envelope.

_Dear Mr. James Potter, _

_As headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I am honoured, and immensely proud to bring to you the news that you have been selected as Head Boy for the school year of 1977. As Head Boy you will be the representative of the school body as a whole; you will be an authority for all the students to approach. In addition to acting as the superior to all of the houses' prefects, you will be representing the school itself. You have been selected following a long tradition that acknowledges the outstanding abilities of elite students, and offers them an opportunity to share their knowledge with others. The Head Boy must be fair but friendly, stern but supportive, and above all, a friend to all. _

_You will be sharing this prestigious position with Ms. Lily Evans, who has been chosen as the Head Girl. Together I am sure that you will facilitate another wonderful year at Hogwarts. Please meet me and Ms. Evans at the Three Broomsticks Inn, on the 31st of August, one day prior to term's start. _

_Yours most humbly, _

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. _

James reached in to the envelope, his hands now positively shaking, and pulled out a shiny, and quite large, Head Boy badge. He turned to Sirius, face as white as a ghost,

"Me. Lily. Head Boy. Has Dumbledore finally gone daft?" He scanned his friend for any sign of support or sympathy, but Sirius merely stared back at him, mouth agape.

"Oh for heaven's sake, son, this is a great honour! Your father was Head Boy!"

James groaned; his father was kind enough, but entirely too stuffy and rule obsessed. Nobody who knew Harold Potter would have any trouble believing that he was once Head Boy. In fact, it was James' childlike determination to be as different from his father as possible, that started his career as a troublemaker; a title he neither wanted to, nor was able to outgrow. Was this what Dumbledore saw in him, his father? Was this what he was destined to become? James started to wonder if it was possible to decline the position...

Sirius finally found his voice, no doubt owing to the Mrs. Potter's imploring stare. "err, well done mate. Dumbledore must really, er, respect you." Sirius didn't think there was ever a more awkward moment between him and James; James was always his partner in crime. Together they had executed pranks that Hogwarts was not likely to forget for years to come. Neither of them had ever been given a position of responsibility; Remus had become the Prefect because of his sense of responsibility and his academic drive. Now that James was given this position, he wouldn't be able to join him in pranking. He'd have to uphold and enforce the laws that they so systematically ignored.

James spent the rest of the day locked in his room, and Sirius had never felt more lost. The very few times either of them were in need of comfort, they both knew exactly how to deliver that comfort; that's why they were best mates, they provided each other with exactly what the other needed at any given moment. This was the first time that Sirius could remember where he really didn't know what to do. He imagined that James was feeling overwhelmed by the amount of responsibility thrust upon him; had it been him, Sirius would have immediately run away from the opportunity.

The day dragged on impossibly slow, and Sirius wished that Remus would hurry up and arrive; if anyone knew what it was to accept responsibility, it was Remus. He always said the right things to make one see things in a different light, and appreciate them. He tried to imagine what Remus would say to James in this situation, but the anxiety of the situation smothered his usually vibrant imagination. He felt vaguely sick.

Mr. Potter came home some hours later, and after briefly conferring with his wife, went into James room to talk to him. Sirius might not have known the right thing to say to his friend at the moment, but he definitely knew that a talk from his father was the last thing James would want. Sirius barricaded himself in his room as well, too overwhelmed by the tension taut in the house. For the first time since he had moved in with the Potters, he truly felt like an outsider, an intruder. He kept his face glued to the window, hoping at any moment to see Remus walking to the gate.

Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. They ate at The Blooming Orchid; the in place for witches and wizards to eat at. The kind of place with abstract plating, stuffy decor, and a two page dessert list. They ate in silence, though neither boys' appetite was ruined by the tension. Mr. Potter kept looking like he wanted to say something, but would stay silent with a nudge from his wife. Mrs. Potter made some half-hearted attempts at conversation, mostly geared towards Sirius, as James was barely reacting, seemingly catatonic. At the table next to them a man got down on his knee and presented a ring to his girlfriend. They skipped dessert.

The family plus Sirius flooed back into the kitchen, in total silence. Sirius' plan was to hurry off to his room and devise a plan to bring everything back to normal, when he saw him there. Remus was sitting at the kitchen, sipping tea and nibbling on a scone, courtesy of Grob, who seemed entirely too eager to be serving someone, as he was denied the pleasure of serving the family dinner as he did every evening. Sirius found himself staring at the other boy; he looked so unassuming and calm, sitting there. Didn't he know what they were going through? Why didn't he arrive sooner? Why were his eyes so chocolate-y in colour?

"James' been made Head Boy!" He blurted out, almost shouting.


End file.
